


Time Matters

by c4tr1n



Category: Primeval
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c4tr1n/pseuds/c4tr1n
Summary: Cutter's death sends Connor into a pit of despair, but he thinks he knows how he can fix it. Abby and Becker try to work together to stop him, do they get to him in time? What exactly is he planning?I think there will be alternate endings to this one!
Relationships: Abby Maitland/Connor Temple
Kudos: 4





	1. Family Means More

## Abby

Connor had spent a lot of time working on his laptop following Cutter’s death, always sure to fold the screen if Abby sat too close. That made her inch nearer each time, or lean further backwards so she could at least get a glance at what he was doing.

Abby wanted to make sure he was okay and that was enough reason to go digging. He was slowly shutting out even more of the world, something that pained her to see. She had to help.

*

Abby left her room to fetch a glass of water, she hadn’t been sleeping properly since Cutter… well, since he died. She was haunted by the image of Connor carrying the body in his arms, she hadn’t dreamt much else since they lost him. She was scared that she was about to lose Connor, too, and she would be as helpless as she had been before.

The flat was dark, an orange glow peering through the windows from the streetlights outside and a blue light on the sofa. She looked again, trying to make sense of the shapes and shadows.

It was Connor. Asleep. The laptop open on his stomach. He had worked himself to sleep. _At least he is sleeping_. She thought.

Abby went to carry on walking towards the kitchen until… asleep! This was her chance. Abby tiptoed towards the sofa and could make out more of the man’s features now. His skin was grey and unshaven, his hair shining in the orange light. She tried to remember when he’d last been for a shower or taken a bath.

She couldn’t remember.

Abby made it to the laptop, slowly lifting it by the screen. He would have shouted at her if he’d seen. _It’s a screen, not a handle. Hold it by its base._ Yep, that’s what he’d say. Abby on the other hand, she had no idea what she’d say if he woke up now.

She could lie and tell him she was putting it away so he could sleep comfortably. Or maybe she was moving it so it didn’t break if he decided to roll as he dreamt.

Abby ducked behind the sofa with the laptop and paused, swallowing a lump in her throat. Her eyes blurred as she tried to stay as quiet as possible while the faces on the screen stared out at her. Abby, Connor, Becker and Cutter. The Professor hadn’t quite managed a smile, and Becker didn’t look too pleased either. The flatmates on the other hand, they were smiling, lips wide, teeth showing and their eyes slightly wrinkled at the edges.

Abby doesn’t quite remember the photo being taken, but she can recall rushing around with Connor as he’d thrown his phone to Jenny. It happened somewhere between meeting Danny Quinn and having to adopt Sid and Nancy.

 _Snap out of it Abby, fuck_.

She sniffed as quietly as her emotions would let her, now having to attempt guessing a password to enter Connor’s laptop. Come on.

 _AbbyMaitland_. Nope.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t that obsessed.

 _SidNancyRex_. Wasn’t that either.

Abby sighed before she heard Connor adjust on the sofa. She peeked over the back of the pillows, down at the now snoring body. He was oblivious to the world around him, escaping to a night of dreams. Or nightmares. Just as she went to tuck herself back down to the floor the ring worn around his neck almost glowed as her shadow shrunk, getting caught in the outside’s orange.

That was it.

She was no hacker, but she knew Connor. She had to be right about this.

 _AbbyTemple_.

Abby was in. Tears started to blur her vision again, and she wasn’t really sure why. Life had been so much simpler once, she thought. There were no anomalies, at least none that she was aware of or working against. No Stephen, no Cutter, no death. Claudia Brown and Jenny Lewis would have just been names and Helen Cutter was far away from them all.

But that’s just it, life was simpler once but she didn’t have Connor. Connor bloody Temple and his silly infatuations. Well… it was more than that. No, now wasn’t the time for this.

The document was already open from where he’d last tried to work on it but his body too tired to stay awake. There were pages after pages, photos from his phone pasted between paragraphs. She tried to make sense of the drawings he’d photographed but they just looked like scribbles to her.

The text she could read. Years were typed as headings, with some sort of calculations and information written below.




_Born The Royal London Hospital._

There were dates leading back to the 16th Century with names she didn’t recognise. She flicked through the entries, trying to make sense of it all. Then, she understood.




_Married Cutter. Islington and Surrounds Register Office, London._

It was a timeline of Helen. Places he could either find her or relatives with specific dates, locations and names.

Connor moaned and Abby slowly closed the laptop, not wanting to read any more and too tired to let her imagination invent scenarios that might not even be true. It might have been work, for the ARC. He might have been tasked to try and find patterns in her movement. That, and her family’s movements for the last 400 years. Unlikely.

Abby thought about logging back on and deleting it, she didn’t want him spending all his time researching the evil that stole their friend from them. It was filling him with anger and consuming the Connor she knew.

She slowly slid the laptop under the sofa and got back up to make herself the water she had been after.

Abby would talk to him about it in the morning.

*

It was noon by the time she woke up, the orange glow that had paved her way to the kitchen now replaced by the light of the sun. It made her eyes hurt.

Connor wasn’t on the sofa anymore. _Maybe he took himself to bed._ Yeah, that’d be it. Sid and Nancy had been let out of their crate and Rex was chirping away at a bowl of salad that had been left for him on the counter.

Abby smiled. One less thing for her to do.

As the kettle hissed and clicked to a boil, she noticed a note on the fridge where she’d gone to grab some milk.

_Anomaly alert, don’t panic. We can handle this one. Get some rest. C x_

Her hand paused on the fridge door, torn between carrying on with her brew or calling him to check for updates. After all, she couldn’t have been sure when he’d left. So, she did both. Once she’d dialled his number, she pressed her phone to her ear, wedging it between her weary head and sore shoulders while carrying the milk in one hand.

“Come on, Connor. Pick up. Pick up.” Nothing.

_Becker, then._

“Maitland. You do realise it’s Saturday. Whatever could I do you for?” Becker almost sounded as groggy as she did, he had probably been catching up on some missed sleep, too. Except… wait, he should have been with Connor. Right?

“Are you with Connor?”

“Connor? The weekends are supposed to be my break from the two of you. So no, he hasn’t graced me with his presence, not yet anyway. Why, should I be with him?”

“No, no. I was just checking, not sure where he’s got to, that’s all.”

“And there I was thinking the two of you were tied by the hip.” He laughed. She laughed. She didn’t want to laugh, but Abby didn’t want to worry him either. Becker would drop everything if he even thought one of them had gotten themselves into trouble.

“Oh wait, I think he’s gone to get some milk.” A lie, of course, as she was putting their nearly-full carton back in the fridge.

“There we are, look.”

“Well, thanks Becker.”

“Abby?”

“Yeah?” Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what she’d do next. The coffee granules were waiting at the bottom of her cup, the kettle steaming from finishing its boil. What the fuck was she supposed to do.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Of course, just tired.”

“Me too. I am going to go back to bed now, call me if you need me.”

Abby was out of the kitchen now, looking for the car keys. Of course, they were missing. Gone.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I will. Thanks.”

*

## Becker

He had tried to get back to sleep after Abby’s phone call but something was bugging him, something wouldn’t let him drop back off to blackness. Why would she have thought that Connor was with him? They got on well, of course, but there was nothing to suggest they would start hanging out together on the weekends.

He was tempted to call her back, just to double-check that she was _okay_. To be honest, he probably should have asked again when he had her on the phone.

Phone.

That was it.

Lester had asked him to do it. He wasn’t truly comfortable at first, but he was promised it would only be used in absolute emergencies. Becker thought this was ample reason to use it. Just to make sure. Double-check.

He wasn’t losing anyone else.

*

Luckily Lester was in. Becker didn’t question why but supposed he was probably paid enough to do some overtime here and there. He headed straight to the office, jogging up the ramp. The ARC was still being repaired and wasn’t quite what it had been but they would get there, one day.

“Ah, Becker. How are we this fine Saturday morning?”

“Afternoon,” Becker corrected but didn’t blame Lester for his mistake.

“So, it is!”

“I need your permission, sir.”

“You know, I like you, Becker. One of the ones that actually respects the chain of command around here. What is it?”

Becker couldn’t help but smile, Lester had a way with his words, a dry humour that was entertaining to those around him as he remained almost oblivious to the joke.

“I need to use the tracker.”

Lester paused. Looking almost worried he asked, “Why?”

“I had a call, from Abby. She didn’t know where Connor was but almost implied that she expected him to be with me. As nice as he is, he’s not the sort I’d –”

“– spend the weekend with? No, completely understandable.” Lester interrupted. “There’s been no anomaly alerts. Is she sure he wasn’t in bed?”

“She sounded worried.” Becker tried to recall the sound of her voice. It wasn’t really Abby. It was a tired, grieving, distant version of the girl he had come to know. “I just want to double-check, just in case. Then we can go about our Saturdays.”

“No, fair enough. Be quick and let me know.”

“Of course.”

Connor had recently fixed the Anomaly Detection Device following Helen Cutter’s bomb. He had worked day and night to get it up and running again and remembers Abby’s pleas to get him home. _Come on Connor. Sleep deprivation never does anyone any good. You look tired. Come on, let me take you home. Let someone else look at it today, yeah?_

The two took an afternoon off as soon as it was fixed and Becker hoped an anomaly wouldn’t interrupt their peace, their chance to catch up on hours, if not days, of lost sleep.

That’s when Lester approached him with their phones. _I took these off them. I promised them an afternoon of rest so that’s what they’ll get._ He passed him a couple of brand-new sim cards too, SIMST or Subscriber Identity Module Smart Trackers. _Listen, we’re not clever enough to work out the tracking side of things, that’s Temple’s expertise. But we have to know where they are so these will do for now. To keep them safe. It’s only temporary until Helen Cutter is out of the picture._

Becker was quite thankful he’d done as he was told as he could now see Connor, or his phone at least, travelling quite slowly towards the Tower of London. Walking. But with purpose.

He called Abby.

“Hi, Abby, it’s Becker.”

“Yeah, everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. Just wanted to check if Connor had made it back yet?”

There was a pause.

“Yep, he’s here. With the milk!”

Becker could hear noises coming from around her, she wasn’t in their flat. Her slight breathlessness meant she was walking too. Connor had probably taken the car for his personal errand. At least, that’s what he might have classed it as if Abby wasn’t lying on the other side of the phone.

“Abby…” He was torn now, between letting her know that he knew, or going along with her lie and going to investigate alone. “Abby, I know he’s not there.”

“How do you know?”

“Sorry, that’s confidential. Action man secrets. Listen, do you know why Connor might be heading to the Tower of London?”

Another pause. Slightly longer this time. He could tell she had stopped walking now, her breathing was different and the voice around her amplified.

“No, I don’t know why on earth he’d be there…” She sighed. “Wait, Becker. Last night, I… well, I checked his laptop.”

“Abby –”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just needed to make sure he was okay, to see if there was anything, I could take off his hands you know. But there was this timeline. It looked like Helen Cutter’s life, with lists and information about her ancestry. I don’t know why he’d done it, but… well, what if it has something to do with the Tower?”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Becker didn’t want to have to explain to Connor how they’d managed to find him. That was a conversation way above his paygrade.

“It wasn’t normal, whatever it was. Why would he need that information?”

Becker wasn’t too sure, and he definitely didn’t know how it tied in with the Tower of London. Whatever it might be, he’d learnt to always carry a gun with him on ARC detail so he shot off towards the armoury.

“Oi, Becker!” Lester shouts after him, echoing through the corridor as he pretended not to hear him. Becker could update him later when he got everyone back safe and sound.

*


	2. What the hell have you done, Temple?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Becker are one step closer to getting to Connor, but will they get there in time and what exactly are they expecting if they do?

## Connor

His eyes were heavy from not enough sleep, too much crying and staring at his screen whenever he got the chance. Jesus he was tired. Tired of it all.

He’d decided to redirect the ADD’s alarms soon after he’d fixed it. Connor had to find an anomaly to help fix it all. For that to happen, he had to be the first there. Once he’d checked if it was a viable route to anywhere useful, he would share the alarm with the ARC and no one would be any wiser.

He had to do this. If he succeeded, they’d be happy again. Well, of sorts.

He’d had no idea what to take with him, but thought that overpacking was better than not being prepared. Connor went over the list of things that were in his bag one last time, and tried matching them to a suitable scenario.

Gloves. If he had to commit a crime, leaving fingerprints at the scene would cause some confusion if they ever reopened the case in the future.

Balaclava. He couldn’t risk being seen, but then he didn’t really want to wear it either.

A pistol with a silencer. He wasn’t going to get caught. This was only for emergencies. Well, at least that’s what he told himself. So many of the possibilities needed this. Quick, easy. In and out.

He’d left his wallet and all forms of identification at home, under his pillow. If things went wrong, he wasn’t about to let everything unravel because of his stupidity. Connor had wiped his phone, too. That had been the hardest thing to do.

While he was on the other side of the anomaly, he was a John Doe.

*

It was conveniently tucked inside the walls of what was once the Royal Menagerie. Lions and other exotic beasts had once been kept here and Connor couldn’t help but think that something much worse could end up coming through the anomaly that now danced in the shadows of the deep hole.

“Ah, just some technical faults with our evening lights, sorry about this.” He’d said to a couple standing behind the fence. They’d simply shrugged and kept on walking.

Lucky for him as it meant he could walk through without being seen.

Connor was back in London. Well, he’d never even left. Simply walked from one year into the other. He tried looking around for clues to where he was, or rather when he was. Luckily, there was a corner shop just a walk away that sold papers in plastic stands but he could almost tell the year just be looking at people’s clothes.

He ran across the road when it was safe to, coughing on the fumes of earlier years. The front cover reported about a recent bombing, here in the city. 1992.

He knew where he needed to go.

*

## Abby

Abby had gone back to the flat when Becker called to grab Connor’s laptop just in case they needed it. Everything of use was on there. She waited outside for Becker to pull up in one of the ARC’s 4x4s, the laptop tucked under her armpit.

The palms of her hands were getting sweaty and the nerves were playing havoc on her stomach. She swallowed more than she needed to, trying to keep whatever wanted to come up, down. If Becker didn’t hurry up, she was going to be sick.

Tyres screeched around the corner and the vehicle pulled up in front of her, tyres nearly hitting the kerb.

“Come on,” Becker said as she opened the door. “Let’s go figure out what he’s up to.”

They were silent the entire way as she scanned the document one more time. The feeling of nausea wouldn’t budge as she was running out of ideas as to why Connor might have needed a timeline of Helen’s life. Deep down, she knew the reason and hoped it wasn’t true. That wasn’t him, she knew it couldn’t be but nothing else made as much sense.

“Becker…” Abby paused, swallowing once more. All of her worries begging to be released, all that anxiety building up and warming the back of her throat. “Do you think… well…” she tried to clear the lump that kept growing.

“Do I think he might be trying to kill Helen? Before all of this?”

“Yeah.” She was thankful that she hadn’t needed to finish the sentence herself, struggling to grasp the idea at all.

“It’s possible. But, it’s Connor. He’d know what that would do to the timeline.”

“I’m not sure, Becker. He’s not himself. He hasn’t been sleeping, he’s not thinking straight. I just don’t know what to do, or what I should’ve done.” She slammed the laptop shut and threw it into the footwell. “I kept asking and asking if he was okay. I didn’t know what else to do. What was I supposed to do?”

Abby could see Becker taking short glances towards her, his eyes squinting with worry. She kept her head straight, avoiding his concerned looks.

“There is only so much you can do, Abs. Connor, well you know Connor. Once he sets his mind on something, he’s engulfed by it. Look, we’re nearly there now. You can ask him again when you see him.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again. Becker pulled up on double yellow lines, not really caring what passers-by had to think about his parking. He was leaning over the back seats now, sorting his weapon cases while Abby stood to the side waiting for a pistol.

“Hold on, no wait a minute.”

“What? What is it?” Abby asked, trying to look into the vehicle.

“I brought two cases. But there’s three, here look. This one’s already empty.”

“Okay…” Abby tried to process the information Becker had given her. In her mind she knew what it meant and it just cemented their terrible theory.

“Abby, if Connor –”

“We need to get after him.”

*

## Becker

They had found a little corner shop just across the road selling newspapers in plastic stands. 1992. Becker tried to figure out where he might have been on this day, or at least this year but he was too busy trying to comprehend the effects of killing a woman in the past, where her narrative was already set and they’d lived through some of it.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Becker sighed, looking around.

“Nineteen-ninety-two. Nineteen-ninety-two. Hold on, let me think. Fuck sakes Abby, come on!”

“Breathe, Abby.” He reminded her as she paced. Panicked. Lost.

“There were some photos. Of Cutters. Connor sorted through them. There was a photo, this year, Helen and Cutter, they were – uh – they were in a park. A picnic, they were having a picnic.”

“Okay, which park?”

“I don’t know, Becker. I don’t know!”

“Okay, this is a good start.”

“Green Park!”

That would have been a good time to make a joke about all parks being green, to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He was trying to figure out where they were and how to get to where they needed to go.

“Right, come on!”

*

## Connor

He watched them from a bench as they shared food. They were eating but sat on the grass without a blanket, and Connor wasn’t really sure if that was still technically a picnic. He couldn’t only keep his mind busy for so long before he was reminded of the reason why he was watching a man dead in Connor’s time eating various finger foods.

Connor had no idea how he would do this it was possibly the worst location an anomaly could have delivered to him but it could also be his only chance.

Cutter didn’t really look all that different. Happier, maybe, oblivious of the future to come. Connor could see why he was interested in Helen. She was radiant. They were sharing books over their food, pointing at different paragraphs and sharing their opinions. Connor couldn’t hear them, but he could make out their laughs and flirty disagreements.

Then, Helen suddenly piqued his interest. She was looking around and stood up while placing her hand onto Cutter’s shoulder.

Connor concentrated on the woman’s lips. _Be back in a bit._

This was it.

Connor sprinted towards the toilets on the corner, glancing behind once to see Cutter pulling at Helen’s hand, laughing as they joked. Just as he reached the blocks, he noticed Helen had started her walk towards him.

“Hello?” Connor shouted into the women’s side. His voice echoed and no one answered. There were cones neatly piled up on the tiles inside, warning of wet floors. He quickly grabbed one and hid just beside one of the walls. Close enough to hear footsteps, far enough as to not raise any suspicion and hidden enough to get organised.

He decided against the balaclava, even having it in the backpack felt odd and illegal. It all did. And was.

Connor grabbed his pistol in one hand, with his other fingers curled around the top of the cone. He remembered Becker’s reminders about trigger discipline. _With your track record, Temple, if I even see your finger flinch towards the trigger with no target, I’ll take the weapon away._

Then there were footsteps, quite light but enough to startle him. He took a quick glance and spotted Helen heading towards the open door. Connor waited, for a second, until he heard her stall click.

When he did, he quickly moved. He placed the cone in the doorway, hoping it was enough to deter any women for the time being, it was quiet enough to quickly use the disabled cubicle without feeling guilty. It was better that than them walking in on… on this.

Only one cubicle was closed, so he had no doubts. He didn’t want to see her this wasn’t _the_ Helen but knowing what she would become was enough. Connor placed the barrel of the gun against the wood, trying to calculate where he’d need to aim to ensure a clean, precise kill. Who was he kidding?

It was a guess, a wild one. He would have maybe two shots, if he was lucky, before she might even begin to comprehend what on earth was happening in the toilets at Green Park. Then he would need to leave, regardless.

“Nick, is that you?” She laughed, probably seeing shadows beneath the door.

Connor pulled the trigger.

He was almost sick. Almost hoping it didn’t happen. It was all a bad dream wasn’t it. Any minute now he’d wake up and Abby would be there, making coffees and slightly burning their toast.

“Connor?”

He turned to the door.

“Abby?!” Connor tried to hide the pistol behind his back, but it was too late.

“No, Connor, what have you done?!”

“Abby, it’s going to be okay. I fixed it.”

“Fixed it?!”

“Abby, she’s gone now. Helen’s gone. I saved Cutter. And probably Stephen too. It’ll be okay, we’ll be okay now.”

“No, Connor. You don’t understand. What’s happened to you?”

She was crying, but he didn’t know why. This was good, he had done it. Without Helen, people lived.

“Abby, I killed her before she could murder Cutter.” Abby winced at his words, as if they were painful to hear. “You weren’t supposed to know, I was going to do this by myself. Then, when I got back I, we, well you –”

“Yes? When you got back?! Can’t you work it out? You’ve changed everything.”

“No, no, no. Look! We’re still here, look.” He went to hold her hand but she snatched her arm away from him. “It’s going to be okay.”

At that, Becker came storming in.

“What the hell have you done, Temple?”


	3. Playing God

## Abby

“Can you really not figure it out? You’re the scientist! You messed where you shouldn’t have been meddling.” Abby had never seen Becker this mad before. He had pulled Connor by the fold of his arm, dragging him towards the doorway. “Walk towards the gates and then run. Do you understand, both of you?”

“Yes.” Connor sounded like a child that had done something he really wasn’t supposed to do when in fact he was a fully grown adult without even the faintest idea of what he might have done.

As she was running, she thought of Claudia Brown and Jenny Lewis, wondering what type of world she was about to return to. If Cutter’s experience was anything to go by, she was absolutely terrified. Then her mind wouldn’t stop concentrating on Connor, and what might happen to her friend.

He was falling behind Abby and Becker so she slowed down and grabbed his hand, pulling him to match her speed. She understood it, why he had done what he had but sometimes Abby wished he would just use his common sense. Wherever that might be hiding in the resident genius.

“Come on, Connor. We need to keep running. Don’t give up.”

“Abby, I can’t. Everywhere hurts.”

“I know, come on.”

They made it, and the anomaly seemed untouched apart from their sudden arrivals and even quicker departures. Abby almost pushed Connor through while Becker had already made it to the other side.

“We need to go and figure out what mess you might have caused, now! Get to the jeep, I’ll call for someone to come and lock this bloody thing.”

*

They travelled in absolute silence she could see Becker glancing in the rearview mirror every so often with angry eyebrows. Abby was glad his glares weren’t for her but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Connor.

When they got to the ARC, Abby and Connor followed a marching Becker through the corridors, neither sure about what they should do or what was about to happen. Everything seemed okay, so far. The rooms were the same and they recognised most of the faces and no one seemed shocked or surprised to see them.

“We need to read case files, we have to know what happened. Can we access them anywhere apart from on the bloody ADD? The last thing we need is someone looking over our shoulders.”

“It’s the weekend, I don’t –” Connor stopped dead as Becker turned on his heel to face the two of them. “I mean, yeah, I just need a laptop.”

“Get one. I have to go and speak to Lester quickly.”

Abby followed Connor as he made his way towards the break out room that housed their lockers. He would always keep a spare laptop in there, locked away from the world in case of emergencies or to watch a film at lunch.

“Connor, last night, at home… or any other bloody night, why didn’t talk to me? I asked if you were okay, I thought you knew you could tell me anything?”

“What and tell you I was hoping to go back in time and kill Helen Cutter?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You’d have stopped me. You miss them as much as I do, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but that’s the way it goes, Con. You don’t go back and play God. Becker is fuming, and to be honest, I am too. You murdered someone.”

Connor was the one to stop on his heels now as they reached the break out room, the same look on his face as what Becker had flashed him in the car. His eyes full of anger and sadness all at the same time.

“No, not someone, Abby. Helen Cutter. The woman who murdered her husband, our friend. She’s the reason Stephen died in that room. And she’s out there somewhere, I had to stop her before…”

“Before what?”

“Before she got you, Abby! You keep saying I don’t understand but I do. There’s a pattern, see, I lose people that are close to me. Tom, Stephen, Cutter, it’s only a matter of time before it’s you. I would do anything to stop you from, from having the same awful fate as them.”

“Even if it meant changing everything? Even if somewhere along the line we don’t meet, and all thi- this doesn’t exist?” Abby waved her arms around wildly as she felt her eyes fill again. It wasn’t sadness, she told herself, she was angry. This was months of anger pouring out of her and all the lost sleep finally catching up with her body.

Connor went to comfort her but she tried to slap him away, beating at his chest as he pulled her in towards his body. He held her so tight that she couldn’t move, her hands couldn’t hurt him.

“Abby, I’m so so sorry. I am. I don’t want to lose you, I’m so sorry.”

His eyelashes were wet as they tickled her cheek and suddenly, she wasn’t sure who was doing the comforting and which one of them was falling apart. She supposed they had dabbled in both, depending on who needed what the most on the day and now it piled on top of them.

Connor had relaxed enough to let her slip her arms from his hug and tuck them beneath his armpits, her hands reaching each other just over his spine.

“I love you.” He said as they stood trying their hardest to stop their bodies from falling to the ground.

“I lo –”

“Right, Lester is happy not to arrest you, just yet. But we have got some digging to do.” Becker made his way into the break out room and they unravelled to face him. “Have you even started yet?!”

“Uh, no, sorry. I was just –”

“Look, it doesn’t matter, come on.”

He had a stack of papers with him and he dumped it on the table. Connor unlocked his locker and pulled out his laptop, fingers typing as fast as they would let him. Abby felt helpless, lingering behind the two of them glancing over their shoulders at the hopes of reading something that might hint at a change in the timeline or any disastrous repercussions.

“Is she…?” Abby piped up after a few minutes of silence. 

“I don’t know. Hold on.” Becker was rushing through the papers, Abby doubting that he was reading them properly. All of them scanning for any familiar name. “Here!”

It was Connor’s statement following Cutter’s death, something she knew he wouldn’t want to revisit so Abby snatched the sheets from him and read. It was all so raw and she was suddenly reminded of the boy that carried a man out from the burning building, covered in soot and blood and completely numb to the world around him.

It was all the same. Abby had forced herself to read Connor’s words with a heavy heart and through a constant blur of tears once he’d managed to finish his statement. She needed to know what had happened to be able to understand how he might be feeling.

“She’s still alive. This is, well it’s exactly the same. Every last word.”

Connor just stared at her, the light from the laptop emphasising the bags beneath his eyes and his almost greying stubble. The relief she felt was soon replaced with overwhelming guilt.

“So, I didn’t kill her?”

“No, Connor. I don’t think you did.” Becker said, comforted by the fact he’d failed.

“Oh. That’s, uh, that’s good.”

“I knew you weren’t cut out to be a murderer.” Becker clapped his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I’ll go and let Lester know.”

It was the two of them again, surrounded by silence and she couldn’t help but think that he should have been happier.

“I know you might not think it, Con, but this is good news.”

“No, I know it is. Just hard to grasp, that’s all.” He said, closing his laptop. “I just wanted to fix things.”

“It’ll get easier, it will. Time is strange like that.”

“Hmm, tell me about it!”

“You have everything you need here, don’t you?” Abby said, leaning on the table across from him.

He looked at her with crescent eyebrows furrowing as he chewed at his lower lip. “Yeah,” Connor paused, “of course. Abby I –”

“Connor, shut up.”

Abby kissed him, no hands at first, just her mouth on his. She pulls back slightly until their lips hover inches from the other as she waits to see if she had done the right thing. Connor’s fringe tickled her forehead as he pressed his face back towards her, lips colliding and it made her forget about their losses and the day that was behind them.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, getting closer with every step and would soon interrupt their kiss. Abby pulled away from Connor with her hand now on his crown as she smiled, eyes still closed.

They had each other, but never like this. There was only so much comfort words and company could provide, you still ended up alone in bed at night and that’s when the darkness crept in and destroyed any hopes of sleep. There had been many nights where she’d crept up to his room and hovered by the door for a few minutes, hand lingering on the handle but never opening it. Abby wondered if Connor had done the same, needing the comfort of someone else’s arms to fend away the bad dreams.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Abby whispered just as she saw Becker and Lester walk in.

“Oh, for crying out loud. You’re left alone for five minutes!” Lester scoffed. “I trust your antics are finished for today, Temple?”

“Hmm?” Connor turned to face the men. “Oh, uh, yeah. I won’t be attempting to murder anyone else.”

“Murder?”

Becker’s eyes were wide as he shook his head, a hand momentarily hovering over his neck signalling for Connor to stop.

“Joking.” Connor smiled. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Lester stared at the two of them for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back. As always. “Listen, I think you should take some time away, both of you. Just a couple of days.”

Connor went to open his mouth, probably to protest.

“Not another word. It looks like you’ll have plenty to keep you busy.”

Abby’s cheeks almost burned and imagined this is how it felt to have your dad walk in on something he was better off not seeing.

“Right, I’ll be off. I have spent too much of my Saturday in here worrying about you sorry lot, my wife will kill me.”

“Me too, I’m going back to bed.” Becker flashed them a smile and headed out with Lester.

“What about us?” Abby stepped around the table and towards Connor. She nudged his elbow with hers and put her head on his shoulder. “Shall we go home?”

“Back to bed?” Connor asked, not looking at her but she felt the hardness of a smile in his cheeks as his head rested on hers.

“Mmm, only if I can come to yours?”

Connor smiled, brightly, and for the first time in a long time his eyes shone too. It was very clear that they both liked the thought of that.

*

## Connor

He took his time pulling himself away from Abby’s limbs and tucking her back under the heaviness of the quilt. It was cold and judging by the orange lights that streamed through the living room windows, it was still late at night or the beginning of a new day, he couldn’t really tell.

Connor just needed to double-check, to read what might have been written about that day. He was torn between feeling relieved that he wasn’t a murderer and disappointed that he’d failed to kill her. Something he would never tell Abby. While the ARC reports told them that Helen existed, that Stephen met his fate in a room full of creatures and that Cutter was killed by his deranged ex-wife, there were so many blanks that he couldn’t figure out.

How had it not changed?

He logged into his laptop, trying to ignore the faces that stared out of the screen but being drawn into their eyes instead. So full of life. Of happiness. It made him want to pack his bag and try again.

There was a stir from his bedroom that brought him straight back down to earth. Okay, he wouldn’t try again.

Once everything gets warmed up, himself included, he searches for her name on the internet. There really aren’t that many Helen Cutters.

It was an article in The Sun that he read, not that agreed with the paper but it was the first one to come up and he was too tired to dig too deep.

ATTEMPTED MURDER BY IRA IN LONDON PARK

He read the article, every single word. Cutter’s quotes on how his girlfriend was doing, shock, panic, a bullet, a poor shot and witness appeals. There was a single photo of cracked tiles and he could just make out the blackness in the centre. The bullet.

He’d missed and they’d blamed the Irish Republican Army.

“Connor?” Abby called out from the darkness behind his laptop screen. “What you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Connor, come on.” He didn’t have to see her to imagine her lips pursed and eyebrows frowning.

“I was checking to see what happened.”

“And?” She was next to him now. His eyes hadn’t had the chance to make out the shapes and shadows in the room in front of him in time and she’d reached him before he had even seen her.

Connor cleared his throat. “I missed.”

“Huh?”

“I missed. That’s why nothing changed. I had a shot and I took it and I missed.”

“That’s a good thing.” Abby sat on the arm of the sofa, one of her feet with its toes pressed against the wooden floor stopping her from losing balance.

“Yeah, but she was literally sat on the toilet. And I missed.”

There was a pause and no one thought to fill it. Connor shut down his laptop, not without a final glance at his own face, smiling next to his friends.

“Well, I’m glad you missed.” Abby said, pulling the laptop away from him and hiding it back under the sofa. She tucked her hand in his and pulled him up from where he sat, leading him back towards his room.

“So am I.” He smiled, his feet not feeling the cold anymore.

“Now can we go back to sleep?”

And that’s what they did, they slept. He wasn’t interrupted by nightmares of a world of possibilities, even though they could still happen. There was something about Abby’s warmth next to him that made the bad stuff disappear far away enough that they couldn’t haunt him as his eyes closed.

For once, he welcomed the darkness.


End file.
